


Inside of You

by anivhee



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Fingering, Community: makinghugospin, Daydreaming, Desire, Desperation, Fantasizing, Kink Meme, M/M, Masturbation, Pining Enjolras, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching, Prompt Fill, Sexual Fantasy, Teasing, tHAT'S A TAG??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:11:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anivhee/pseuds/anivhee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He supposed there were more people in the world who fancied getting off while watching their computer screens, as weird as fuck as that sounded to him even after doing it for so long. </p><p>aka Enjolras succumbing to his human necessities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside of You

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S 3 AM THIS IS MY APOLOGY TO EVERYONE WHO READS THIS
> 
> Written for the [Les Mis kinkmeme](http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com) [prompt](http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/13488.html?thread=10690736): _R as a porn star that Enjolras secretly gets off to._ My original idea was to make a minifill?? How the hell did this end up having 1391 words???
> 
> ~Title from [THIS PRETTY SONG RIGHT HERE](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AebWB12xk_E) (pls get me off the internet i need to sleep)

Enjolras opened the lid of his laptop with trembling fingers, palms sweating already and heart thumping loudly. He chastised himself for such a behavior—there was no reason for him to act like a young kid over such a thing. People had… _necessities_ , and he was human after all. There was nothing wrong with taking care of himself every once in a while.

His fingers ran across the keyboard and he waited until the page loaded. He _felt_ like a child, though; it was _exciting_ , a sensation he didn’t get quite often: some sense of doing something out of the ordinary, though it wasn’t really the case. He supposed there were more people in the world who fancied getting off while watching their computer screens, as weird as fuck as that sounded to him even after doing it for so long. 

He still felt that awkward pulse slowly growing at his cock when the page finally opened, pictures of nude “models” coming into view—lots of them posing in such ridiculous ways he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He bit his lip furiously as he thumped in his username and password—he was still afraid someone would caught him, no matter how possessive he was of his laptop that anyone that dared to touch it always logged in with a guest account. He gave a few pulls at his semi hard cock as he waited to be redirectioned, and huffed in annoyance at his internet connection.

There was no point in wasting time; as the page slowly came to life the picture of that model—that _R_ fellow who didn’t have another name and made Enjolras incredibly furious because he couldn’t know more about him—greeted him. The page usually threw random pictures of models to greet its guests, so Enjolras felt secretly pleased to look at that broad, tanned chest he often found himself fantasizing about. He licked his lips unconsciously as he took in the whole image— _R_ ducking his head to the side, exposing his neck, with a hand resting behind it; his eyes were lidded and his mouth barely open, which did more to Enjolras than the sight of his flushed, thick cock resting beside his thigh, so hard and _perfect_ that Enjolras’ hand was already pumping his aching member. 

He wanted to do something stupid like caress the picture with his finger, but even Enjolras knew that was stupid and _wrong_. He quickly scrolled down and looked for his favorite video, the first one on his gallery, and clicked on it. For a moment he panicked about the shitty internet connection and having to endure the lag. Maybe it would’ve been easier if the fucking site had the option to download the videos, but even then, Enjolras wouldn’t download them. It would be too risky (or so he said).

R’s picture was gone in an instant, replaced by a black square box that was taking _ages_ to load. Enjolras tapped his finger impatiently, glaring at his computer screen and cursing softly. He closed his eyes and imagined R—big, muscular R leaning against him on the couch, running his hands teasingly across his body; cupping his balls in his hand and giving them a gentle squeeze. Enjolras hissed, mimicking the motion with his own hand. R then would nibble at his earlobe, whisper something with that sexy, raspy voice of his against his ear and make him shudder. 

There was a sound coming from the computer and Enjolras opened his eyes. The video had stopped right at the beginning and he rolled his eyes, pausing it and letting it load a bit more. The good thing was that the first scene showed R standing naked outside the bathroom door, drops of water running through his chest to the expense of his body. The image only showed R with his hand on his hair, ready to ruffle his dark locks. Enjolras knew that video by heart—it was a bit disconcerting, he had to admit, but he loved it. He could almost listen to the grunts in his head, his cock hardening at the thought. He loved R’s voice. 

He allowed his mind to wander a bit more, picturing R pushing him down the couch, forcing his way until he had Enjolras’ lips trapped between his own and he could lick the inside of his mouth. Enjolras had always wanted to know what he would taste like—would his mouth taste of cigarettes? He had created this image in his head, due to his raspy voice, of R ending each scene with a cigarette on his lips, sucking until his cheeks were hollow and blowing out smoke in circular shapes. Enjolras knew how pathetic that was, but something on his chest stirred at the thought, especially if he imagined R blowing the smoke inside his mouth. 

Something inside of him snapped—that was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if he was ever going to meet him anyways (as much as he wished it), and even so, why would he want to meet a porn star? Or rather, why would he want to cuddle said porn star, and wake up with that person, and kiss his shoulder, and rub himself against his chest, and suck his cock, and—

He clicked play before any more of that nonsense continued. He gripped his cock tightly, rubbing his thumb against the tip and watching each movement R made on the screen with intent, doing his best to suppress the pathetic blush that was now coloring his cheeks. This whole thing was stupid, and he knew it. Yet his hand found its way through his shaft, pressing, tugging and pumping. He licked his palm and rubbed faster, eyes focused on R’s lips and the way his tongue ran over them. 

The camera angled the guy that was going to be fucked; Enjolras suppressed a grunt as R positioned himself above from him, running his hands through the boy’s back, saying naughty things while he was at it. He whimpered before he could contain it, imagining those same big hands running across his lower back and finding their way lower, until R’s fingertips could tease his entrance and Enjolras would squirm and plead. 

At one point or another he found himself sprawled even lower on the couch, pants completely gone; a hand stroking his cock furiously and another teasing himself, pressing and twitching his fingers, closing his eyes and imagining R doing it. Telling him “baby” with that raspy voice, feeling his breath and his _heat_ pressed against his body, suffocating him, intoxicating him. Enjolras moaned, thumb pressing his tip viciously while he bit his lip. If he kept moaning “R” over and over while he rolled his hips against his fingers, well, no one would know. 

He casted a glance at the screen, only to catch the camera making an extreme close up on R’s face while he sucked the guy to the root. Enjolras made some sort of inhuman sound as his thoughts twirled around that image—and how fucking _hot_ R looked with his lips around a cock, eyes looking straight at the camera, like daring it. Like daring _him_ , Enjolras supposed.

He could feel his heart beating on his skull, his body tensing with desperation as both the sudden need to come and punch himself in the face manifested. He couldn’t help but wish for R to be there, for him to be fucking Enjolras instead of that lucky bastard who didn’t even moaned as much as he did. R was so huge—Enjolras wanted him inside of him, he _needed_ him inside of him: thrusting with abandon, leaving bruises on his hips and telling him how he only belonged to _him_ , only him, only—

He came with a strangled cry, arching his back and spurting all over his keyboard. He cursed softly, whimpering a little, watching the screen through half-lidded eyes. R had just came, and some little part of Enjolras wished they had done it at the same time, just to be in sync in something. He cursed a bit louder, the urge to punch himself getting bigger and bigger as the seconds passed. He had to stop.

But he saw R’s face as the camera approached him to ask if things had gone smoothly, and sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi?](http://m--emrys.tumblr.com)


End file.
